


Dreaming of a White Christmas

by Hadespuppy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, But warnings won't, If Hallmark did queer Christmas movies, M/M, Rating May Change, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21543439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadespuppy/pseuds/Hadespuppy
Summary: Steve Rogers is in the common room sketching and watching CNN when a handsome stranger wanders by, starts yelling drunkenly at the TV in Russian, then falls face first in his lap. Bucky wakes up with a pounding headache and only hazy memories of the night before. Had he imagined a blond with the face of an angel half carrying him home? Will either of them be able to find the other again, amid the stress of exams, holidays, and the stress of college life?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	Dreaming of a White Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Flourish's story from [Episode 87](https://www.fansplaining.com/episodes/87-what-we-discourse-about-when-we-discourse-about-the-discourse) of Fansplaining podcast. I make no apologies.
> 
> Fair warning, I'm real bad at consistent updates. I'm going to try to get this done by Christmas-ish, but I make no promises whatsoever except that I will finish it eventually, so if you don't like works in progress, maybe best to just mark it for later.

Steve shook his head. He was supposed to be working on the sketches for his next painting, but he kept getting lost in the way the light from the skylight filtered through the overhead walkways in the University Commons. Admittedly he was probably just bored with the piece. And with the majority of the student population gone home for Thanksgiving, there wasn’t anyone around for him to hang out with instead of trying to make it interesting enough to be worth finishing. 

So he was sitting sprawled over one of the modular chairs in the commons, the image in his sketchbook barely changed from when he had sat down an hour before. He watched the few students passing through the commons. Some were clearly on their way home. Others looked to be in search of on-campus entertainment. None gave him the spark of inspiration he needed. He glanced up at the TV hanging from the ceiling. The volume was down, but it seemed to be tuned to CNN, playing a never-ending stream of the depressing state of the world. He thought about hunting down the remote to change the channel, but that seemed like a lot of effort for something that would only end up distracting him more than he already was. He sighed and turned back to his sketchbook. Maybe if he deepened the shadows. 

A sound from his left pulled Steve’s head up. A student was coming down the stairs, wobbling slightly, clearly drunk. He made his way into the little seating are near Steve, narrowly avoiding tripping over a chair. He stopped and blinked owlishly up at the tv. He seemed to think for a moment, then suddenly his eyes flashed with anger and he let out a stream of invective in what Steve thought might be Russian. 

He shouted at the TV, incensed, gesturing wildly. His longish hair was caught up in a messy bun at the back of his head, and a few strands came loose with the force of his gesticulations. Steve had no idea what he was saying, but if he had to guess, he would say it was probably not the sort of thing that should be repeated in polite company. Steve closed his sketchbook and leaned over to slide it into his bag. If the drunks were out already, he definitely wasn’t going to get any work done. 

The movement must have caught the eye of the drunk guy, because he turned towards Steve and started talking to him, still in Russian, while pointing at the TV, then gesturing at the world at large. Steve shook his head in the universal sign of “I don’t understand you, please go away.” The man took two steps forward, this time did trip over his feet, and landed face first in Steve’s lap. 

He stayed there, sprawled over the chair with his head tucked into Steve’s midsection, all the vitriol apparently drained out of him. Steve tentatively brushed the loose hair out of the way to see if the guy was even still conscious, revealing a lightly stubbled face that was, Steve had to admit, rather attractive. He had a small cleft in his chin that would have had Steve reaching for his pencils, were it not for the fact that the man, who had just recently been yelling at a TV in a foreign language, was now snuggling deeper into his lap.

Steve nudged the stranger’s shoulder, then again a little harder. 

“Hey, are you all right?”

The stranger turned his face to look up at Steve. HIs eyes were clear blue-grey, like the sky just before a snowfall. He blinked slowly. “Huh? Who’r you?” he asked. Surprisingly, there was no trace of Russian in his accent.

Sheve huffed a breath of laugher. “I’m the guy you just landed on.” 

“Oh” he lapsed into silence, then “I sh’ld go. Th’re’s a party” 

He made no move to go anywhere, just stared up at Steve

Steve looked around. The commons was empty, wherever this stranger was heading, he didn’t seem to have any friends with him. 

“Sounds like maybe you’ve already hit the party,” he said, wincing as he heard himself use what Sam called his “old man voice.” 

“Bad party. Goin’ t’a better one.” His words were slurred, and he was still blinking in the slow way of drunks everywhere as he stared up at Steve, but he didn’t seem to be hurt in any way, or any kind of a danger to Steve. Still, Steve didn’t think he should let him just wander off to who knows where in his current condition.

“I think maybe I should get you home.” he said, patting the stranger’s shoulder in what he hoped was a friendly and reassuring manner. 

A wide smile cracked the stranger’s face. “You wan’t t’ come home with me? I’d like that” 

Steve ignored the obvious implication of the stranger’s words. He was gorgeous, but also very drunk. “Come on,” he said, pushing at the broad shoulders in his lap, “up we go.” 

The guy let himself be manhandled upright, and stayed standing, only swaying a bit as Steve gathered his things and slung his bag over his shoulder. He put an arm around his accidental charge, and started guiding him out of the commons. 

“What’s your name, anyway?” he asked as they made their way up the few steps to the main doors. 

“James.” the stranger replied pleasantly.

“Well James, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve. Now where are we headed?”

James waved a hand vaguely off to the left. “Party’s tha’ way”

Steve sighed. “Yes, but we’re taking you home, remember? Where’s your dorm?” Steve hoped James was living in a dorm. He didn’t have a car, and getting off campus without one was a real pain in the ass. 

James smiled beatifically. “Right. Pretty man takin’ me home. Yay me.” He leaned in as if to try to kiss Steve, but Steve dodged it easily. 

“None of that. Let’s get you home first.” 

“Ok,” James said good naturedly and waved his hand to the right of where the party supposedly was. “That way.” 

They headed in the direction of James’ dorm. James went along amiably enough, although Steve did have to fend off a few more amorous advances. It really wasn’t fair. He’d been single for what seemed like forever, and while it didn’t really bother him, meeting someone who looked like James, and was interested in men, but who was also drunk out of his gourd would be just his luck. Maybe he could still get his number. Of course, James probably wouldn’t be interested in Steve once sober, but a guy could only hope. 

“So what were you yelling at the TV back there? You seemed pretty angry.” Steve hoped the question would distract James without bringing on the same anger he had seen earlier. 

A dark look crossed James’s face and a small line appeared between his brows. It was adorable He muttered something under his breath that Steve didn’t catch, and may not even have been in english. “Or’nge bastard.” he added, but didn’t explain any more. Steve nodded in understanding anyway. 

They stopped at an intersection to wait for the light. There was hardly any traffic, but Steve wasn’t taking any chances. James turned to look at Steve, who prepared to dodge another kiss, but it never came. 

“Are you an angel?” James asked. “You look like ‘n angel. My angel” Steve snorted, although the compliment made him feel a little warm anyway. If only James knew how not angelic he was. 

The light changed and Steve tugged James into the crosswalk. They had only taken a few steps when a car came from the opposite direction and turned left, forcing them both to dive out of the way. Steve looked to see James picking himself up, apparently unhurt, then turned to the driver of the car, who had stopped but not gotten out. He stalked over, nearly vibrating with anger. 

“What the FUCK,” he shouted, “You could have killed someone!” 

The driver, a woman with dyed blue hair, shrank back into her seat at his voice, and he forced himself to reign it in a bit. “Did you even look?” he asked, still angry but at a more reasonable volume.

She was shaking her head, and when she turned to him there were tears in her eyes. “I didn’t see—you came out of nowhere.” She pushed her door open as she spoke, forcing Steve back. She stood and looked back at the corner. “Is your friend ok? Did I hurt him?” 

Steve turned to show her that James was luckily fine, no thanks to her, but he was nowhere to be seen. Shit.

The driver clutched at Steve. “Tell me he’s ok!”

“I-I think he’s fine. I saw him get up. I should go find him though. Are you ok to drive? You haven’t been drinking have you?”

She shook her head. “I’m ok. I just had an argument with my dad. I wasn’t paying attention I guess. Are you sure he’s ok?” 

“Pretty sure, but I need to go before he wanders too far.” Steve was torn. He didn’t want to abandon James, but the woman didn’t really seem in any shape to drive either, and he’d feel awful if she ended up hurting someone else because he let her get back behind the wheel. As he was weighing his options she seemed to shake herself and through force of will, calm down.

She wiped her face. “I’m going to give you my number. Let me know when you find him. I want to make sure he’s ok.” Steve nodded, feeling better about letting her go. She got back into her car and fumbled in the passenger seat for a moment before holding a piece of paper out to him. He took it. 

“Drive careful, ok?” he said, and she gave him a wavering smile before driving off. 

Steve looked around, but there was no sign of James. He half-jogged in the direction they had been headed, calling James’ name, but there was no sign of him in the dark. It was as if he had vanished entirely. Eventually Steve had to admit that he probably wasn’t going to find the handsome stranger, and turned his feet in the direction of his own dorm. For some reason, the prospect of spending Thanksgiving on his own seemed a lot lonelier than it had earlier that day. 

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd, if you see anything, fell free to say something. Concrit is always welcome, and comments in general are love.


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